


Lemongrass

by Shelligator



Category: All Hail King Julien
Genre: And some pining?, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, Hoo-ah!, Humor, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Pancho Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Slow Romance, Stuff blows up!, Ted is fabulous as usual, They're just clumsy animals, Trigger warning for chapter 2, Triggers, You can skip it if you like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26155291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shelligator/pseuds/Shelligator
Summary: It's all fun and games until a reminder of Pancho's traumatic upbringing sends him into a spiral. And while it's King Julien XIII who pulls him back from the brink again, the ordeal stirs up questions neither had dared to ask themselves, or each other.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------This ship makes me soft, honestly. Happy reading, Snitches! Chapter 2 is a flashback with trigger warnings for Non-Graphic violence/Psychological Torture/Manipulation, but it's self contained so you don't have to read it if you don't want to :) Chapter 3 makes up for it with that juicy hurt/comfort goodness.
Relationships: Pancho/King Julien XIII
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	1. Ear to Ear, We're Grinning Like Two Cheshire Cats

**Author's Note:**

> It feels really weird being the first to make the Julien x Pancho tag. WHEEZE. Well, there has to be a first for everything! I hope you guys like it, please like and comment if you do. :D They bring me joy!

“Ouch!” 

The yelp escapes him before he can clap a paw over his snout to stifle the sound, and beside him King Julien hisses under his breath, the ring-tailed lemur throwing him a startled but decidedly peeved look.

“Quiet Pancho! Come on man, I expected better from you!” He whispers almost as loudly as the crowned lemur had yelped in the first place, and Pancho throws a pointed glower back at him, curling in on himself in an attempt to reach down and rub his smarting foot.

“Sheesh, keep your fur on, would ya? Look, we’re all good.”

He bobs his head in the direction of the watering hole, and Julien leans in close to him to peer through the shrub, his tail giving a curious and easily excitable flick to and fro behind him. Blinking hard as his space is so quickly invaded, Pancho twists his body enough to search for whatever offending object had stung his foot, more for his own benefit than Julien’s. Or so he tells himself.

It’s a crumpled piece of metal, a red cylinder with white script lettering that he can’t quite read. The torn edges are sharp, and he snatches it up in his paw before anyone else can cut themselves on it. It smells sickly sweet, and he has to shake off a few ants that come crawling out of it with a quiet growl.

It’s just one of the many pieces of garbage that litters their little patch of paradise, and this time it isn’t even their fault. Lately humans, or ‘tourists’ as Timo calls them, have started visiting the kingdom, bringing with them knick knacks and curiosities that had initially enthralled them. Julien especially had been easily won over by them, all too eager to get fawned over and have many, many pictures taken of himself.

But they’d also brought with them copious amounts of garbage, and the lemurs had quickly come to realize that the behemoths’ considerations didn’t extend far beyond themselves as they proceeded to harass them and scatter their human trash about their watering hole. 

Even the King had quickly come to agree, the humans had long outstayed their welcome. It was time for them to go. And Pancho was more than happy to help see them out.

The offenders in question have left their Jeep to get up close to the bait King Julien had left out for them. With his big doe eyes and bushy tail curling around him, Mort is irresistible, the little Goodman’s mouse lemur pulling out all the stops to lure them to the right spot. A few even get the chance to pet the tiny demon as they pose for pictures with him, and Pancho’s face lights up with a manic grin, looking up at King Julien out of the corner of his eye.

“See, what did I tell ya? We’ve got them right where we want' them! Who knows, maybe they’ll take Mort with them!”

“You really think so?” Julien asks him eagerly, voice layered thick with hope and optimism, and Pancho’s smile only grows as he uses his free paw to find his detonator.

“We live in hope. Now let’s give them a little something to remember us by! You may want to cover your ears,” he doesn’t even try to hide the enthusiasm in his voice as it picks up a couple of octaves, and Julien claps his paws over his pointy ears, biting at his bottom lip to keep back his excitement.

“Hoo-ah!”

He jabs his thumb down on the detonator with an air of showmanship. And just like that the ground erupts in a spectacular pillar of destruction, throwing dirt and smoke into the air with violent bursts. Human cries follow soon after, and out of the acrid smoke the tourists come scrambling, eyes wide with terror and covered in dirt and scorch marks.

With his trademark bubble of laughter Julien leaps out of the bush beside him, unafraid of the raining dirt, and Pancho quickly follows after him, his fur bristling with adrenaline. All around them other lemurs do the same, springing from shrubs and swinging down from trees to brandish makeshift spears and any pieces of trash they can get their paws on.

“Ahaha! Now _that’s_ how we kick off a farewell party, right my peoples? Let’s _rock_ this thing!”

The lemurs howl their assent, and the tourists answer with shrill caterwauls of alarm, picking themselves up off the ground to make a haphazard retreat back towards their jeep. But Pancho’s feral smile only gets wider, baring his teeth in malevolent delight as he watches them go.

“That’s right, demons! _**Scram!** Let’s see how far that gets you! And take your trash with you!_”

He hurls the crumpled metal at the tourists' backs, and the other lemurs start to do the same, throwing bottles, tins and rocks after them as they’re worked up into a righteous frenzy. And then the chaos only unfurls further as the Jeep explodes before the fleeing tourists can reach it, pieces of shrapnel and car parts singing through the air in every direction. The sight has Pancho whooping in delight, punching the air with savage glee.

A burning tyre goes rolling past them, and it takes Julien a moment to pick his jaw up off the floor, much to Pancho’s delight. Amber eyes gleam with exhilaration, and the ring-tailed lemur is soon hooting and hopping up and down on the spot, beaming from ear to ear beside him. The King’s approval of his methods makes Pancho’s chest swell with pride, his spirits soaring as the two exchange twin Cheshire cat grins before the King throws his arms up in the air.

“Did you guys _see_ that?! Kabam! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” He emphasises his words with some aptly timed pelvic thrusts, and his people erupt in even louder cheers, thriving off the violence and destruction as the humans flee in blind panic up the dirt road they’d followed to get there. A few lemurs give chase with rocks and sticks, only to quickly come back to the safety of the group with a palpable air of sheepishness.

“ _What the **heck** was that!?_” Comes a shrill voice from behind them, and the pair blink hard, turning to be confronted by the enraged visage of Maurice, the fluffy Aye-Aye twitching with the sheer force of his indignant anger.

“MoMo!” King Julien cheers, throwing his arms wide, “Did you _see_ that?! We were unstoppable! We were all like, ‘ _You’re going down, trash beasts_!’ **Haha** , and they were all ‘Noooo please don’t hurt us, please! Waaaah!’ And then we were all-”

But the Royal advisor waves his paws wildly, cutting off King Julien’s colourful retelling of their exploits, “ _That was **not** part of the plan!_ You could have gotten somebody hurt! Was all that really necessary?!”

“Was that… was that necessary? Oh _I’m sorry_ ” Pancho presses a paw to his chest, wailing dramatically as he leans down and in to bring his face close to Maurice’s own, fighting back a smirk as the Aye-Aye flinches away, “I forgot you’re the dynamite expert around here! Oh huh, wait a sec… **You’re not!** I made the right call! You wanted them gone, and they’re gone! **You’re welcome!** ”

“ **Expert?!** ”

“Guys, guys, _relax_!” King Julien purrs, interrupting them before Maurice can continue the thought. His arms slip around both their shoulders, and before Pancho knows it both he and Maurice are pulled in closer to the taller lemur, their faces smooshed up against his. Julien’s cheek is warm against his own, and his arm is a familiar weight around Pancho’s shoulders.

“I would call this a success! Nobody got hurt, killed, maimed and/or disfigured! That’s good, right? And besides, they took Mort! _How great is that?!_ ”

But all three of them look up as a blackened clump of fur falls from a nearby tree, twitching and convulsing in a crumpled heap at their feet. Tiny paws make a desperate reach for King Julien's feet, and the ring-tail’s face falls, a strangled whine building up in his throat.

“I’m still here, my King!” Mort swoons, lifting his face to look up at him in bleary eyed adoration, and King Julien tenses up against them, letting out a wail of chagrin with a frustrated stomp of his foot.

“ **Oh come on**! Why Frank, _why!_ ” Julien’s shoulders shake with the force of his dramatic sobs, and Pancho throws a scowl down at the tiny mouse lemur as he gets dangerously close to the King’s feet. With a grunt and a well aimed kick the felon sends Mort flying towards the watering hole, his battered body skipping across the water before settling in the shallows.

There’s an all too familiar cry from nearby, and the felon looks up with a raised brow to see his friend Willie wave from him to Mort with indignant fury, teeth gritted, “What the heck man?!”

“We’ve been through this Willie, **get over it!** ” Pancho rages back, and his anxiety-prone friend throws them a narrow eyed glare before storming off to carefully scoop up the now thoroughly sodden Mort.

“Oy vey…” Maurice sighs, shrugging himself out from underneath Julien’s arm as the King starts to lean too heavily on them. Pancho rolls his shoulder to adjust his weight, refusing to acknowledge the way his stomach lurches when Julien doesn’t immediately leave him, pressed flush against him with Maurice’s absence. Suddenly not sure what to do with his paws they curl and uncurl at his sides, the crowned lemur standing ramrod straight with a small but strained smile.

“Anyway, who’s going to clean up this mess? And if either one of you so much as looks at me I swear I’ll _lose it_.” Maurice grumbles this last part under his breath, folding his arms. The words ‘clean up’ has an immediate effect on the lemurs around them, who all cease their celebrations to try to disappear into the jungle with varying degrees of subtlety. 

“Pfft, _relax_ Maurice!” Julien waves him off with a chortle, standing up straight and relinquishing his hold on Pancho, much to his relief and chagrin, “We’ll get Timo to do it! Ted can get him; wait, where’s Ted? Ted? _Ted_!!”

“Right here, your Majesty!” the fabulous lemur in question calls eagerly, and they turn to watch Ted trot over to them, a too-large sun hat perched on his head and his arms laden with human goodies, “Look what I got! To the victors go the spoils, as they say!”

“Ted! How did you get all this stuffs? And how is it not on fire?” Julien gasps, rushing over to steal the sun hat right from the bamboo lemur’s head. He turns it over and over in his paws, his eyes wide with fascination.

“Oh I couldn’t resist, I snuck over to the car when they were busy going gaga over Mort. I saw an adorable sling bag and absolutely _had_ to have it. But, I didn't think it would hurt to grab a few more things for my favorite fellas while I was there!”

“Did you _see_ what Pancho did to that Jeep? _You could have been killed_!” Maurice waves towards the burning remains of the vehicle behind them in exasperation, and Ted looks over his shoulder with arched brows, hips cocked to one side.

“Golly, I mean, when you say it like _that_ …”

“Well, we’re _all_ glad he wasn’t, right peeps? And look, he got all this neat stuff! _Nice one_ , Ted!” Julien enthuses, and he sweeps his crown off his head and haphazardly puts it on the nearest lemur’s head with another happy burst of laughter. That just happens to be Pancho, and he lets out a strangled sound of surprise and confusion, looking up at the crown atop his head with wide eyes. Maurice is equally shocked, spluttering away as the words fail him, but if Julien notices he doesn’t show it, too busy putting the sun hat on his head, “Tell me, how do I looks? Does it bring out my eyes? Or better yet, _accentuate_ my booty?”

“Don’t you have things to get back to, your Majesty? Like, literally anything else?” Maurice drawls with no small amount of exasperation, and as Pancho reaches up to gingerly adjust the crown on his head with a quiet air of awe the advisor suddenly springs up to snatch it from his head, making the former convict flinch back with a look of mild offense.

King Julien squints at that, pursing his lips as he taps a finger to his chin thoughtfully. And then just like that his face lights up, eyes wide and bright with excitement as he whirls to face his inner circle, “That’s right, I do! We have plans tonight, big plans! The craziest, most earth shakin’ party this jungle has ever _seen! Wabam!_ ”

He emphasises this last point by swiftly switching their hats around, slamming the sunhat down on Maurice’s head with a little too much enthusiasm and replacing his crown again in one fluid motion. Pancho fights back a snort of amusement as the hat leaves the Aye-Aye momentarily blinded, and when Maurice struggles to tug himself free Ted reaches over to yank it up and over his eyes with an amicable smile aimed down at the short advisor. 

“Ted, bring these sweet, sweet goodies you’ve got there to the party tonight, daddy KJ needs a new fixation! But for now, go get Timo, that milquetoast little basement dweller has some cleanings up to do. Tell him he can keep anything interesting he finds out here to sweeten the deals.”

“Teddy is _on it_ , your Majesty!” Ted enthuses, beaming from ear to ear before dashing off in the direction of home. Pancho watches him go before folding his arms, arching a brow at the giddy King.

“A party huh? Hey that’s right, it’s your bi-monthly birthday bash, isn’t it King J?”

“You remembered?” Julien’s smile competes with the sun beating down on them overhead, and Pancho reels a little in the face of such enthusiasm, once again not at all sure what to do with himself. He hadn’t expected it to mean so much to him.

“Um, well I-”

“It’s not like you let anyone forget it.” Maurice points out, and Pancho shifts his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, relieved to have the answer provided for him.

King Julien clicks his tongue, giving Maurice a surly look before he turns his attention back to Pancho, his gaze flicking down to the shorter lemurs feet and back up to his face, “And how’s your foot?”

“What?” Pancho yelps a little too shrilly, his mind still reeling.

“You know, with the whole big baby ouchie thing in the bush, almost blowing our cover. Come on Pancho keep up man, sheesh!” Julien lambasts him, gesticulating towards Pancho’s foot wildly.

“Oh, right, _that_. Feels fine now, but you never know. Lots of stuff could happen.” he puts emphasis on his words with a few well placed growls and waves of his paws, and Julien flinches back, watching him with wide eyes, “The wound could get infected, cause some real _grizzly_ necrotization of the flesh, or even blood poisoning. Terrible way to go, really. Maybe I end up with a peg leg though. I know a guy who could hook me up with a real nice one. _Like a knife_!”

“Ah, _right_ , sounds fun,” Julien laughs a touch nervously at that before weighing up his paws, “And say, how long does that take to happen, give or take? A couple of hours? Days? Can you still dance with the er, necrotizzle-thingy and the blood poisons?”

Pancho blinks at him incredulously, one eyebrow arching as his lips twist to the side, and Julien gives a dramatic, long-suffering sigh of exasperation.

“Well?! Can you come to my party or not?”

Oh.

_Oh-!_

“Sure thing Julio, I’ll come to your party.” Pancho rolls his shoulders, trying to feign nonchalance. But he can’t help but watch on in barely concealed bemusement as Julien punches the air triumphantly, whirling on Maurice.

“Yes! Ahaha, _in your **face**_ MoMo!” He barks down at him, and Maurice arches a brow at him lazily from beneath the wide brim of his sun hat, arms folded petulantly.

“I didn’t say anything, your Majesty.”

“ _Exactly!_ ”

Still not sure what to make of the fiasco unfolding before him, Pancho spreads his arms with a shrug as he rolls his eyes skywards, canting his head in the direction of the kingdom's outer limits, “Well, it’s been fun boys. But I’m burnin’ daylight out here, and I’m starvin’. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah yeah! See you there, buddy!” Julien waves some jaunty finger guns at him, and Pancho throws him a lazy, two fingered salute from his temple as he turns on his heel to head for home.

“Smooth.” Maurice deadpans behind him just before he’s out of earshot. Pancho’s ears swivel to pick up the sound, and he turns his head just enough to catch Julien violently pull the brim of that sun hat down over Maurice’s eyes again, hissing something venomous under his breath that he can’t quite catch.

He turns the whole interaction over and over in his head as he makes his way home, about as many times as he tries to tell himself it doesn’t matter. But once he steps out into the clearing on his doorstep, those musings cease entirely. 

It’s been at least several months since he’d reclaimed the abandoned shack at the edge of the kingdom as his home, and yet he still has to push down the flare of anxiety that tightens his chest and slows his steps when his sunset eyes land on that familiar red door. But he soldiers on regardless, rolling his shoulders to shake off the insidious shadows that gnaw away at the fringes of his mind and the feeling of unease that accompany them.

The interior isn’t nearly as empty as it was when he first found it; it’s no palace by any means, but he’s taken to kitting it out with some comfy furnishings. A palm rug covering a trapdoor here, a couch with a hollow base for his deadly weapons there, and a few trinkets and books his ex wives had brought him. He’s even got a painting he’d bought off of Mort; the little pipsqueak may be a demon, but he definitely has talent, and Pancho can appreciate that. 

It certainly helps soothe him, and once the door is closed behind him he wanders over to kneel beside his couch, giving it a sniff as he checks the false bottom for signs of entry. A little paranoia doesn’t hurt anyone, at least not anyone that matters to him, and with his track record he has every right to be paranoid.

Reassured that he hasn’t had his stash raided he clambers back to his feet. What time is it? Just past midday maybe? He could probably get away with a nap before the birthday bash, and knowing how the King’s parties tend to go he’ll certainly need all the sleep he can get. But he wasn’t lying when he said he was starving, and there are few things better than a full belly to send him off to sleep.

Now that sounds like a plan. A lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and he moves to navigate his furniture to reach the crate of mangoes he keeps in the corner, making a show of side-stepping and sashaying in a playfully suave dance across the floorboards.

And then there’s a loud creak of protest beneath his foot.

An inexplicable wave of icy cold washes over him, and his dance comes to an abrupt end, the crowned lemur freezing in place with a sharp intake of breath.

He’s crossed these same floorboards many times, and yet the creaks and groans that emanate from this very spot never fail to leave him feeling unsettled. But he’d always push through it, or subconsciously skirt around them to avoid treading on them. Now he reflexively recoils, his foot jerking away from those boards as his heart starts to beat entirely too loudly in his ears. His eyes settle on where his foot had been moments ago, flicking this way and that as a familiar panic starts to bubble up inside him, fueled by a looming sense of dread.

He should keep walking. Should get his mango and continue his day like he’d intended to. Like this had never happened at all.

And yet…

The felon swallows, his mouth incredibly dry as he steels himself. His guts seem to writhe inside him as he steps forward with deliberate slowness, watching intently as he brings his foot down on those floorboards again to apply a considerable amount of force.

Those boards dip slightly beneath his foot, with no ground beneath them to support the pressure he exerts on them. A strangled groan bubbles up in his throat, and he feels his stomach sink through him and right through the floor below. The thundering of his heart turns into roaring in his ears, loud enough to drown out the sound of shifting wood as one final push dislodges those loose floorboards, revealing darkness so thick it feels like a tangible thing.

And then the darkness rushes up to meet him, stealing his breath right from his lungs before anything else can escape him.


	2. Fix My Head, It's Pouring at the Seams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pancho get's taken back to memories he'd have sooner left forgotten.
> 
> Trigger warnings here for depictions of violence, psychological manipulation, isolation and intrusive thoughts. But there is some soft in there! <3 Happy reading! If you prefer not to read it, you can proceed safely to chapter 3.
> 
> For context, I HC that Pancho's training happened in his younger years, like mid/late teens. His training ends and he gets ejected into the kingdom with no memories after that, and ends up in high school with the others.

He smells like lemongrass.

Pancho’s arms tighten around him, pulling Julien more tightly against him as he nuzzles his face into the soft tufts of fur that frame the young prince’s cheeks. It’s silky against his snout, and his smile grows, a contented hum rising in his chest.

It feels nice, all warm and safe and _right_. It’s a welcome reprieve, and no matter how it ends his arms always feel so good around him, his safe harbour in the chaos that is his life. Frank knows he’d forgotten what it felt like to be held by someone, and holding Julien makes his heart ache in the most awful and wonderful way.

He doesn’t want it to end.

“Now isn’t that sweet?” comes a familiar voice, drawled and overly saccharine, and Pancho can’t help but bristle, icy dread gripping at his heart, “He’s a good hugger, isn’t he?”

The young lemur knows better than not saying anything, and he lets out a quiet hum of assent as his tail curls around Julien’s midriff of its own accord. The prince is, as always, blissfully unaware, and Pancho tucks the ring-tail’s head beneath his chin, daring to lift his gaze.

King Julien the 12th looms over him, his broad frame casting a shadow over the pair as he smiles down at them far too widely. He totes a large lollipop in his paw, waving it around as he speaks.

“But you know what’s sweeter? Hmmm? This _lollipop_. You like them, don’t you Pancho?”

Swallowing back the whine that rises in his throat Pancho hums his agreement again, but is by no means reassured as his ears pin back with fear. His paws press and dig into Julien’s back, hard enough to leave dents in his skin, but as always the prince doesn’t notice at all, doesn’t do anything but hum quietly into the crook of his neck.

He knows what happens next all too well, and no amount of bracing will help.

“Then you have to do a little favour for me, Pancho. _Kill him_. Kill Julien. Do it for the lolly!”

Those trigger words send Pancho’s mind reeling in an instant, and it feels for all the world like he’s drowning as a heavy wave of intrusive violence and relentless noise comes crashing down on his head. Like the tide beating away at the rocks it steadily threatens to strip him of everything that makes him _him_ , tugging viciously at his consciousness and attempting to whisk him away to the darkest recesses of his mind.

And yet, clinging to Julien like one would to a branch in a tropical storm, he swears he feels the prince’s arms tighten around him. And even as his pupils dilate to inky black pools, the tears well up in his eyes and spill down his cheeks, disappearing into his fur.

“I don’t want to…” he whimpers, his voice small and broken as his chest heaves for breath. And for the first time he means it, even as the onslaught of noise in his broken mind rises to an overwhelming crescendo, “I can’t! _I can’t!_ ”

King Julien blinks hard down at them, his bushy eyebrows rising in surprise and confusion. But his eyes quickly narrow in anger, making his flimsy guise of friendliness all the more terrifying.

“Oh come on, you know you want to! It’s your favorite! Watermelon flavour, mmmm _so good_! All you have to do is kill him. Do it Pancho.”

“No!” The boy howls back, and like the cornered animal he is, he bares his teeth at him as the bitter tears flow ever faster, “ _ **I don’t want to!**_ ”

“ _I said do it! **Kill him Pancho, kill him!**_ ” The tyrant roars in anger as he quickly loses patience, and his voice is impossibly loud in Pancho’s ears, echoing through the corridors of his mind. It’s bigger than he is, bigger even than the baobab tree as it shakes the very foundations of his consciousness.

And Julien’s fur is warm beneath his chin. 

Tearing his gaze away from the King’s seething face, Pancho pulls his legs up onto his chair, curling in on himself as he tucks his friend closer to him. Julien’s ears fold back, and for the first time he opens his eyes, looking up at the other teen with large amber eyes.

“Pancho?” he asks quietly, his voice small.

“I can’t do it…” Pancho murmurs meekly, and when he dares to look up at the King’s face he shies back even further from the disgust he sees there, his lip curled at the corners to reveal his teeth.

“Pathetic,” he spits down at him with venom, but then even more alarmingly the King straightens, leveling a smug grin at the terrified juvenile, “If that’s the way you want to play it boy, _so be it_. I think I know just how to change your tune.”

Waving a paw towards the pair almost lazily, the King turns his gaze to his fellow agents in training, the lot of them staring blankly at a spot on the opposite wall. If they have any sympathy for him, they don’t show it, their faces carefully crafted masks of nonchalance.

“Take that ‘thing’ away from him. And bring him over here.”

“Pancho?” Julien presses again, this time with more urgency, and Pancho clings to him tighter still, wrapping his legs around him for good measure as the other lemurs get out of their chairs in perfect unison.

“Hey! No, wait, _wait!_ Stop it!”

But his pleas fall on uncaring ears as they surround him, reaching out to make a grab at Julien. When one of them attempts to grip the prince’s shoulder Pancho lashes out in an instant, his snapping jaws latching onto his paw and biting down with rabid force. His teeth sink into flesh, blood spilling onto his tongue in a rush of coppery warmth, and yet the agent doesn’t react beyond swiftly punching him upside the head hard enough to make the boy see stars. He clings on regardless, growling around the paw between his teeth, until another lemur delivers a swift and unforgiving punch to his gut, winding him and forcing his jaw to unlock.

Then Julien’s gone, pried from his desperate grasp like he’s nothing more than a toy taken from an unruly child. And for a horrifying moment that’s all he is, his limp body just a puppet of fruit and bamboo strung together in the prince’s likeness. Pancho sobs through his desperate bid for air, his breath thick and rasping in his throat.

And then their paws are on him, holding his arms and shoulders in iron grips. And any attempts to bite or wrest himself free end as quickly as they start when their paws suddenly push the back of his head down roughly, bowing his neck enough to painfully incapacitate him. Another one moves to grab his snout and hold it shut for good measure, forcing him to fight for breath through his nose.

Out of the corner of his eye King Julien gives his lollipop a happy lick, not bothering to watch the spectacle unfold. A hum of delight rumbles in his chest, and it’s only when his agents drag Pancho over to him that he seems to remember they’re there at all, arching a brow down at him with a palpable air of smugness.

“ _Very good_! Now, put him in the pit. And be quick about it, I’m _long_ overdue for a bubble bath!”

Pancho whines behind tightly closed lips, attempting to tug and squirm in panicked desperation. But that paw on his muzzle grips him even tighter, making his eyes sting with painful tears. He keeps thrashing regardless, his heart beating at the cage of his chest like a bird frantically trying to break free.

An agent kneels to pull away some loose floorboards beneath them, revealing a square entrance to unrelenting darkness. The smell of fertilizer and sickly sweet decay rushes up to meet him, filling his nostrils and making him gag.

The paws on him push and pull, and as hard as he tries to dig his heels in and throw his weight about they simply heft him up and toss him down into the darkness with trained ease. 

A cry tears free of his throat, ending abruptly as he hits the floor at the bottom with a heavy thud. Fortunately for him he lands on some of the many bags of fertilizer strewn about the floor, but the impact is still enough to make his body ache, his skin bruised and throbbing where the other agents had held him.

Gingerly pushing himself up onto all fours he cranes his head back to look up at the square of light above him, his ears pinning back as King Julien’s face pops up over the edge to smirk down at him.

“Oh Pancho, you know how much it pains me to do this,” he lies effortlessly, shaking his head like a disappointed parent, “Do take the time to think about what you’ve done, won’t you? Or more like, what you _didn’t_ do.”

“No, wait!” Pancho cries, reaching up frantically, “Please, I’m sorry! Wait!”

But he’s answered by the floorboards sliding back into place, and he can only watch as the last one finally slots in, stealing the last sliver of light and plunging him into thick, inky blackness. The ceiling creaks above him as the group moves to leave the hut, and Pancho’s shoulders slump, his body shaking with shock and adrenaline.

The darkness and stench that permeates the air feels like a tangible thing, heavy and cloying. His eyes struggle to adjust to it, and it becomes virtually impossible when his eyes well with tears all over again, a burning lump rising in his throat.

Backpedaling and scooting across the floor till his back finds the wall, he settles in for what’s undoubtedly going to be a very, very long wait. He shifts till his fluffy tail can rise up between his legs, and he hugs it to his chest as he screws his eyes tightly shut against the darkness, groaning into the dense fur that tickles his face.

And his stomach growls unhappily, breaking the heavy silence that hangs over him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He thinks he’s going to die. And by now, that probably wouldn’t be so bad.

The young lemur’s entire existence seems to revolve around the agonizing void that his stomach has become, and as the days pass the darkness around him only seems to get worse. His imagination creates unsettling shapes in the dark that skitter and move about at the corners of his vision even when he swears his eyes are closed, his ears pricked to pick up the sounds of scuttling and whispers that may or may not be there.

He’s lost track of the days by now, of the times he’s screamed himself hoarse whenever he’d hear the groans of the floorboards above him to suggest his fellow agents in training had returned for a lesson. 

The only thing they leave him is water, and it only seems to come when he’s sleeping. He would awaken to the thump of the floorboards being put back into place, just about catching a glimpse of the bucket before being plunged back into darkness. No matter how much he begs, they don’t come back for him, and they don’t bring him food either.

He doesn’t think he can take it anymore, doesn’t think he can be left alone with the tattered remains of his mind for another minute, let alone another day. He tries desperately to retreat somewhere, to some remote corner of his consciousness where the sheer weight of the silence and darkness can’t reach him. 

But the deeper he goes, the more lost he seems to become. And even there, where he thinks nothing can reach him, he hears the whispers that raise the fur on the back of his neck, whispers that seem to pierce right through him.

_Kill him, Pancho._

_Do as you’re trained._

_Kill him, kill him, **kill him.**_

_**Kill Prince Julien!** _

_**Do it, boy!** _

_**Pancho!** _

“Pancho~.”

This time it’s all too real, and the young lemur lifts his head quickly, his neck giving a sharp twang of painful protest. But it’s nothing compared to his desperation, and the void in his gut howls with the need to eat, so strong he thinks he’d wretch if he had anything to give.

King Julien the 12th stands before him with his paws behind his back, lit up by the square of light from the opening in the ceiling above them. Instinctively Pancho bristles, all of his fur standing on end as he clumsily gets up onto all fours, poised to bolt to another corner of the room if need be. But that alone is enough to make him dizzy, his heart palpitating in his chest and forcing him to hunker down again.

But King Julien makes a quiet shushing sound, shaking his head with a pitying look. When he speaks his voice is cloyingly sweet, layered with concern and a decidedly chidding edge, like he's telling off a young pup for sticking their paw in a bees nest.

“Oh, Pancho, _Pancho_. I’m not going to hurt you. Look at you, poor thing. You must be starving.”

He hates him, and yet, in spite of himself the tone of his voice is enough to make the boy’s heart crack in his chest, a painful lump rising in his throat. Lemurs are social creatures; every part of him yearns desperately for the contact of others, to be free from the silence and darkness that’s permeated his entire being.

He wants to be held so badly. He wants to feel the warmth of other lemurs, to be groomed and talked to.

He wants to smell lemongrass.

“How about we get you something to eat, hmmm? Oh, a juicy mango does sound good, doesn’t it?”

Pancho can only whine his agreement, his ears pinned back as his tail slowly unfurls from where it had been pressed close to his stomach. He’s about to make another attempt to stand when King Julien raises a paw, the other still poised behind his back.

“But first, you have to do something for me.”

Just like that Pancho’s heart sinks, the ground starting to spin and lurch beneath him.

The King moves his lumbering frame to the side, revealing the smaller form of Prince Julien the 13th, his paw firmly on the young juveniles shoulder to hold him in place. His fluffy ringed tail coils around himself nervously, pointy ears pinned back, and he looks from his uncle to Pancho, amber eyes wide with worry.

“Pancho…?” Julien squeaks nervously, searching his gaze. But the King’s paw tightens on his shoulder, hoisting him up straighter as the prince’s legs seem to clumsily give out from underneath himself for a moment, like they’ve turned to jelly.

“You know whose fault it is, don’t you? Whose fault it is that you’re down here.” The King presses, giving the crowned lemur a beseeching look. His lips move but the words are separate from them, echoing loudly in Pancho’s mind as he pushes Julien forward roughly, holding him at arm's length.

“Julien’s why you’re down here. Julien’s bad, isn’t he Pancho?”

“Yes,” a voice rasps, and Pancho barely registers it as his own voice, distant over the blood rushing to his ears. And he’s just as surprised to find he’s on all fours again, all his fur standing on end as Julien’s frightened face fills his vision.

“Pancho?” Julien whines, and when he tries to take a stumbling step back the King holds him in place more firmly, a broad smile splitting his face as Pancho’s body seems to move of its own accord, poised to spring.

“That’s right. Julien is bad. And you know what that means, right?”

“Yes,” that voice snarls again, but by now it sounds miles away, dwarfed by King Julien’s thundering voice and the whimpers that fall from Julien’s lips. Pancho growls in answer, his lip curling to reveal his teeth.

“ **Kill him.** ”

The world seems to explode around him, and before he knows it he’s off like a shot, bounding on all fours to rapidly close the distance between him and the horrified prince. He feels like he’s falling even as he launches himself at his friend, and when his gaping maw clamps down on Julien’s neck he gladly lets the darkness claim him, pulling his consciousness into the welcome embrace of nothing at all.


	3. When I’m in my darkest hour, head upon the concrete floor, it is you who picks me up and makes me well again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mind reeling, a distraught Pancho wakes up to be greeted by a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like comfort, because boy I sure do!
> 
> I thought I could wrap this up in 3 chapters, but er, apparently not. ^^; But I hope you guys like it! Thank you for the kudos and comments, they really make my day! <3

“ **Pancho?!** ”

As he’s pulled back to reality with a yelp, Pancho’s senses are bombarded with several things all at once, the former convict’s heart beating worryingly fast in his chest. Every frantic breath he takes seems to roar in his ears, and he finds his cheeks damp with tears, leaving streaks in his fur. His head pounds with an agonizing vengeance, and somehow he finds himself hunched forward with his back against the wall of his hut, with no idea how he’d gotten there.

And King Julien the 13th stands before him, his face a wide-eyed picture of concern and trepidation as he looks down at the smaller lemur.

“What?” Pancho yells in wild fear, pressing himself back into the wall like he might be able to crawl up it like this. He’s shaken even further when he realizes the hut is cast in shadow around them, the jungle darkened by the cloak of night outside, “ _What_?!”

“Relax, _relax_! Take it easy, man!” King Julien waves his paws quickly, his voice jumping a good few octaves as he grimaces down at him, and Pancho brings his paws up to brace the back of his neck, his eyes roaming all over the King’s familiar features, from his poofy tail to the dark rings that frame his golden eyes.

When he seems at least somewhat sure that Pancho isn’t going to bolt, Julien brings a paw up to rub the back of his neck, gesticulating with the other one as he gives the other male a reproachful look, albeit a shaky one, “So… when you didn’t show up to my _totally off the heezy_ party, I figured I should-... I dunno _come find you_ or something.” He spreads his arms, his voice wavering despite the accusatory tone he levels at him, “I mean, I thought we’d **agreed** the whole foot rotting off thing and the blood poisons was no excuse not to come and drop booty to the floor! _**Not cool** Pancho_!”

Pancho can’t bring himself to say anything, light tremors rocking his frame as he stares up at Julien in shock, watching every move he makes as if he might suddenly disappear. But the King soldiers on regardless, shaken and near hysterical as he crouches down and thrusts his paws out to pointedly gesture at the spot Pancho still sits in, ears pinned flat on either side of his crown.

“And then like, I find you just _sitting_ heres, like… like I dunno all spacy and stuff. And-and-and doing that freaky _thing_ with the eyes?” he brings his fingers up to pry his eyelids apart to widen them dramatically before bracing his paws on either side of his head, his pupils shrunken down to panicked pinpoints, "Just _staring!_ It's creeping me out here, man!"

The more the words tumble out of Julien’s mouth, the tighter Pancho’s chest seems to become, distress and misery rising like a scream inside his throat. How long has he been sitting here like this for? How long was Julien trying to rouse him? He doesn’t know, and he can still feel the ache of hunger in his stomach and the feeling of warm fur on his tongue. Bamboo splinters exploding in his mouth, jaw clamping down on flesh, teeth sinking into-

With every inch of him tensing up by the second, his bottom lip caught between his teeth to stop it from quivering, Pancho watches as Julien's arms drop to hang limply beneath him, his lips twisted in frustration and chagrin, "Pancho? Are… are you even listening to me? You're just staring, **again** , so I really can't tell. You could... you know **say something** , or- Ah!"

But the King’s tirade is cut short with a shrill cry as Pancho finally pounces, leaping up from his spot to bodily collide with him. The two lemurs go tumbling in a tangle of limbs and tails until their trajectory is interrupted by the side of the couch, Julien’s back slamming into it none too gently. Pancho follows soon after, sprawled between the King's legs with his arms wrapped tightly around his midriff.

“Okay, **ow!** ” Julien barks indignantly, stiff as a board in Pancho's embrace with his arms poised haphazardly above him in awkward surprise, “What was that, you-... you...”

But the words trail off in his throat, the King’s body slowly untensing against him as Pancho’s shoulders start to heave and shake with quiet, broken sobs. The tears flow too quickly to stop them, and he ducks his head to bury his face in Julien’s chest with a grimace, ashamed of his own display but too far gone to stop.

He smells like lemongrass.

Weeping quietly into the dense ruff of dark fur that covers the King’s chest, his world seems to spin on the axis that is the steady drumbeat of Julien’s heart as it races so close to his ear, grounding him to reality. He wills himself to stop crying, but the bombardment of emotions and sensations is too much to bear, crushing him beneath its weight. But then he feels Julien’s arms slowly slip around his shaking frame, his friend’s paws gingerly brushing through the thick burgundy fur that covers the length of his back. It’s enough to break his resolve entirely, and Pancho lets out an utterly broken keen, clinging to him like he might drown otherwise. 

Shifting carefully in an attempt to sit up straighter against the couch, Julien drags Pancho closer to him still with surprising tenderness, wrapping his legs and dense fluffy tail around him to keep him flush against him. And the distraught convict goes without protest, slowly dragged across the floor till his head is tucked beneath Julien’s chin, his ear catching on the underside of his snout and making it flick of its own accord.

“I’m sorry,” Pancho whines desperately, falling apart at the seams, “ _I’m sorry._ ”

“Hey. Sssh, it’s okay buddy,” Julien murmurs against his ear, his voice patient and tender as it thrums in his chest, and Pancho groans in answer, loud and violent sobs wracking his body so hard it aches. Julien gives him a comforting squeeze, eyes closed tightly as he nuzzles his face into the fur of Pancho's crown, “It’s going to be okay.”

Choking on his own tears, with his head throbbing painfully and his heart overcome by the most terrible ache, that feels really hard for him to believe. But the longer they sit there together, entangled in a ball of quivering fur, the more he can slowly start to feel it, allowing his head to empty until there’s nothing left but the sound of his own quieting sobs and the push and pull of his paws kneading anxiously at Julien’s back.

That is, until he feels a rumble build up in Julien’s chest, vibrating against his cheek and along the top of his head as the sound rises into the King’s throat. It’s enough to make his heart trip over itself in his chest, and his sobs peeter off with a shaky inhale of awe and disbelief.

King Julien is purring.

It rises and falls with every breath Julien takes, and shifting just enough to take a peek upwards Pancho finds the King is smiling. The sound of that soothing purr washes over him, the vibrations enveloping him and urging him to relax muscles he hadn’t even realized he was tensing. It’s like a knot uncoils in his gut, and as King Julien’s paws pat and rub up and down his spine he feels his back and shoulders untense with a light shiver, tingling sparks arcing up his spine and into the nape of his neck.

That purring is enough to soften and still his sobs, and eventually even the tears cease entirely, leaving only a few sniffles. He feels drained, but it’s not an unpleasant feeling, enveloped by Julien's warmth and his welcome touches that work to piece him back together again.

“Thanks, Julio…” He breathes eventually, eyes heavy lidded as he shifts to rest his chin on the King’s shoulder, and Julien gives a quiet hum, leaning his head against his, “You’re a _really_ good hugger.”

Julien lets out a happy chortle at that, grinning into the fur that frames the crowned lemur’s head, “You know Pancho, out of all the weird things that come out of your mouth face, that was pretty cool. And you’re, eh, not too bad yourself!”

The compliment makes Pancho’s stomach do a backflip, and just like that he becomes hyper aware of the position he finds himself in, entwined in the embrace of his purring King and friend. Suddenly his skin is hot beneath the fur of his neck, that heat creeping up into his face, and Julien’s purring only seems to get louder in his ears. He feels every press and sweep of Julien’s fingers through the fur along the length of his back, deftly playing some imaginary tune like he would on his keytar, and suddenly that’s all he can focus on.

His paws clench and unclench in the black fur that line’s Julien’s back, and as he indulges himself with a long, slow stroke upwards to fan his palms across the ring-tail’s shoulder blades, that’s all he can think about too. 

He's so soft.

A heated huff of air escapes King Julien to warm Pancho’s temple, his purring hitching with a rather sudden shrill burst of laughter. The sound is flustered and awkward to Pancho’s ears, and he blinks hard as Julien abruptly pulls away to pointedly lift his gaze, suddenly very interested in the ceiling beams above them. 

“So, er, bringing it back to the topic of, _heh_ , apologizing and stuffs, I should _probably_ say **sorry** for whacking you over the skull when I found you being all freaky-deaky.”

“ _What?_ ” Pancho yelps, leaning back in Juliens arms to regard him in sheer disbelief. His head gives another pang of protest, and now he understands why, “Why would you do that?!”

The King's flustered smile falls away in an instant as he blinks rapidly back at him, like somehow he hadn't anticipated the response he got. But soon enough sheepish surprise turns to offense, and Julien releases him to rest his paws on his hips, quickly putting on a show of indignance, “ _What?!_ You wouldn’t wake up, what was I supposed to do?”

Pancho rolls his eyes skywards, lifting his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug, “Oh I dunno, I can think of **lots** of things!” He folds his arms to narrow his eyes at the other male, his voice dipping till it's pointed and reproachful, “But braining me? _Not one of them_.”

“Okay FYI, I didn’t do nothing to your brainy parts. And if we’re just about done with the finger pointings, what got you all bent out of shape anyway?” Julien presses flippantly, arching a brow at him.

Pancho’s face quickly falls, the words sending a shot of icy cold through him. Stiffening in Julien’s lap, he turns his head just enough to eye the loose floorboards, abandoned where he’d left them earlier that day. From here he can just about make out that sliver of darkness, and his shoulders curl inwards on themselves, his lips pulled into a worried wince.

The King follows his gaze with a whimper, and suddenly his paws are on either side of Pancho’s face, pulling him back to face him sharply enough to almost throw the shorter man off balance. A high pitched yelp of surprise escapes him, and he blinks rapidly as sunset eyes meet gold, their faces entirely too close together.

“Okay,” Julien groans awkwardly, giving him an earnest look, “I probably could have worded that better.”

The former convict would have had a million and one retorts or quips to shoot back at him, but every one of them is stolen from him by those soft paws on his cheeks and the warm breaths washing over his snout. His mind reels, feeling thoroughly spotlighted by the proximity of Julien's mouth to his own.

“Um… don’t sweat it.” he offers eventually with a palpable air of awkwardness, and he reaches up to take Julien’s wrists and draw his paws down and away from his face. The king doesn’t protest the contact, but he does arch a brow at him as Pancho gets to his feet, leaving the warmth and security of their embrace with some reluctance.

But he moves over to the loose floorboards regardless, wrestling with the intense flare of fear and anxiety that rises his chest. Julien watches him go, uncertain, but when Pancho gestures pointedly down at the opening in the floor at his feet the King pushes himself up and makes his way over to join him, dusting off his fur as he does so.

The two of them stare down at the darkness beneath them, their paws on their hips as they absent-mindedly match each other's stances. An overbearing sense of dread and cold seems to radiate from below, and Pancho can't help but shift his weight from one foot to the other nervously, lips pressed into a firm, unhappy line.

Finally Julien waves a paw down at the floor, eyebrows arched high with skepticism as he looks from Pancho to the floor and back, "I mean yeah, okay, _weird_. But I thought we were already clued in on Uncle's gross toilet tunnels."

Pancho does a double take, giving him an incredulous look before throwing his arms wide, his voice loud and shrill with nerves, " _That's not what this is!_ "

The King blinks hard back at him, flinching back a little as his paws curl up against his chest. He points limply at the hole in the floor, lips curled into an fretful frown as he splutters away, "Eh, It… it-it's not?"

" _ **No!**_ ”

"But then what is it then?!" Julien shoots back at him, and Pancho feels his heart race as the panic and fear threatens to overtake him, his primal fight or flight response kicking in. A quiet whine wells up in his throat before he can stop it, and he reaches up to press his paws over his ears and grip his head tightly. Like he might be able to contain all the terrible memories that threaten to spill over and whisk him away again.

He can't bring himself to answer, but from the way Julien's face blanches, gold eyes roaming over him in quick, worried flicks, his expression must be all the answers he needs. When the King's gaze drifts down again he takes a small step back, regarding the hole with the same look of trepidation and unease Pancho feels.

"Right… I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's _bad_ , then."

His paws flexing at his sides, Pancho tears his eyes away from the hole to take in the rest of the hut. The place he had fought to call his own. It seems foreign now, as frightening and surreal as it had been when it was empty of everything but shattered hopes and traumatic memories.

There's a potted plant on a shelf nearby, one that he frequently overlooks. Lucky for all parties involved it just so happens to be a succulent, one Willie had brought him shortly after moving in. It doesn't require much TLC, and the hardy thing seems to have even sprouted a few red flowers since he last noticed it, against all odds.

Willie's hut is full of plants and succulents, and in the many times Pancho had stayed in his hut before he ever had a place of his own, moving from one friend to the next, he'd even learnt some of their names. That one is an aloe.

It was supposed to help him feel more at home.

His shaking paws balling into fists, Pancho moves towards the couch, jaw set. Julien watches him go apprehensively, his tail curled around himself as he frets absently with his paws.

"Er, Pancho…? Whatcha up to buddy?"

But the felon doesn't answer, dropping down to his knees to open up the secret compartment beneath his couch. There's a dramatic gasp above him, and next thing he knows Julien is on his knees beside him, angling himself awkwardly to duck his head upside down. Their faces smoosh together as he attempts to get a good look at the compartment, and Pancho bristles at the sudden invasiveness of the contact, but does nothing to pull away from it.

"Shut! The front! _**Door! Haha** , this is crazy dope man!_ I love secret stuffs!" The King enthuses against his cheek, all giggles and eager grins. That is, until Pancho pulls out a length of rope vine and a sizable flashlight, and Julien's face quickly falls, "Okay but for reals, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Pancho counters, his upper lip curling, " _I'm going down there!_ "

Julien lets out a sharp, strangled sound right in his ear, and suddenly the ring-tail jerks upwards, hitting his chin sharply on the underside of the couch. He yelps and backpedals away, clutching at his now crownless head as he splutters and fumbles to get his words out, "AH! Nnn- eugh! Are you _cuckoo clocks crazy_?! No! _No, no, no, no,_ **no**! That is out of the questions!"

Pancho glares at him out of the corner of his eye as he straightens up, scowling as he tests the flashlight. It flutters a little weakly, but he smacks it a couple of times and it springs into full, brilliant life, casting his home in a beam of white light that stretches out the shadows. Julien flinches back as if struck, his fur bristling with indignance at going ignored.

"Uh, **hello**?! What did I _just_ say?! News flash, **_I said no_**! And you know what else, since we're on the topic of _stupid whack ideas?!_ You **_living_** in this _freaky nightmare house_! I mean seriously, what is up with that?!"

"Hey! _**This isn't up for discussion!**_ By all means, stay up here and _run your mouth_. But I have to do this, so I'm doing it!" Pancho whirls around to rage back at him, and Julien shrinks a little, all fire and brimstone quickly leaving him.

The King's words sting more than he thought they could, and they ring in his ears even as he gets up to tie the vine around one of the supporting poles that keeps the hut standing. He feels Julien's gaze follow him, making the fur on the back of his neck stand on end, but the ring-tail doesn't move to stand, putting his crown back on his head.

He doesn’t blame him.

But as he gives the rope a few sharp tugs to make sure it stays steadfast he hears a shuffle behind him, and he turns sharply to see Julien kneel beside the hole to pull the remaining planks away with quiet grunts of strain. Pancho’s jaw goes slack with quiet disbelief, and Julien rolls his eyes at him, looking none-too-happy about the whole thing as he folds his arms petulantly

"I'm just gonna go on record and say this is a _terrible_ idea. And I would know, Maurice has had his fair share of those." Julien levels the words at him with a heaping helping of sass, but when Pancho moves to join him at the hole the King’s expression softens somewhat, “Gimme the flashlight, I will light the way.”

Pancho’s heart does the strangest _thing_ in his chest, his gut twisting up like a pretzel, “What? _What?_ You don’t have to-”

But then the King’s finger is on his lips, shushing him abruptly, and Pancho stares at him like a deer in the headlights, rigid and suddenly feeling very awkward and gangly in his own skin, “Hup up up, it’s a little something I like to call ‘ _compromise_ ’. I grace you with my kingly presence, and you do what I say. It’s simple math. Now, _gimme the flashlight!_ ”

The ring-tail snatches the flashlight away from him with very little of this aforementioned grace, and when he finally withdraws his finger from Pancho’s lips the smaller male realizes he’d stopped breathing entirely. The King squints at him, as if challenging him to argue, but when Pancho does no such thing he clears his throat awkwardly, putting on a clumsy facade of indifference.

Still at a loss of what to say or do with himself, Pancho watches as Julien makes a show of flicking the flashlight a few times to try to restore it to full brightness. And yet, it isn’t shock that leaves him floundering so. No, this isn’t the first time the King’s chosen to stay by his side when it matters. 

Julien had been there for him before, when he'd first come here. Under very different circumstances certainly, but he'd been supportive when he'd needed it. And he'd been there for him when he'd needed it most of all; lost, despairing and stricken with grief for the family he'd never had, for the life that was stolen from him.

_My point is, you’re not alone._

He isn’t, at least not anymore. In spite of everything he levels a smile at his friend, and even though it doesn’t meet his eyes, they shine with enough warmth to make up for it. Julien steals a furtive glance in his direction, and spotting his smile the King's face quickly lights up, grinning back at him despite his prior pretenses.

It feels pretty good. That is, until Julien directs the flashlight beam downwards, and both lemurs peer down into the pit beneath them, eying the rocky floor below. Even at full brightness the torch only lights up a relatively small section of the ground below, barely keeping the surrounding darkness of the room at bay. A few bags of fertilizer litter the floor, and the pair’s smiles quickly waver before falling away entirely, unsettled at the sight.

Swallowing, Pancho drops the rope to let it tumble all the way down, and he lets out an anxious huff of air, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So, er, what was that about lighting the way?”

Julien lets out a sharp, short-lived bubble of borderline hysterical laughter, and the sound quickly peeters off into a nervous whine, his ears almost flat on either side of his crown. He clutches the flashlight like his life depends on it, and he reaches out to grip Pancho’s shoulder with his free paw a little too tightly.

“Heh, right. _That_.” The King gives another short, panicked burst of laughter before murmuring rather sheepishly, the words tumbling from his mouth, “On second thoughts, this was your dumb idea. After you, buddy!”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness me I love it when they cuddle. Also, fun fact, ring-tail lemurs can purr! So I promise it's not me wilding xD.


End file.
